


New Modern Love

by Kittymama85



Category: Lucifer (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, F/F, F/M, Implied F/F, Mild Language, Mild Smut, Multi, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-11 06:00:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7031914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittymama85/pseuds/Kittymama85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys get an unexpected glimpse into your old life when an old flame agrees to help you and the Winchesters steal an ancient text. Your old love and current infatuation collide, jealous ensues, and a whole lot of testosterone gets thrown around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. British Invasion

**Author's Note:**

> This is a "sort-of" crossover between Supernatural and Lucifer. Lucifer and Mazikeen are not the Devil and his faithful demon in this story. They are simply Tom Ellis and Maze, but still have the same lives that are portrayed in the show. I love the characters, but wanted to stay true to Supernatural as well. Plus, they are fucking HOT :-)
> 
> The title of this story is credited to Halestorm's New Modern Love.

I had to admit, the prospect of seeing him again sent a jolt of electricity straight to my heart. Or was it my crotch? Seeing as he had dominated both once upon a time, it was hard to tell them apart. 

“How do you know this guy again?” Dean asked from the driver’s seat. 

“We were involved,” I answered as noncommittal as possible. Still, the heat from my nether regions seemed to seep upwards into my cheeks. Dean’s ever watchful eye was sure to notice.

“Involved? Is that your fancy word for fucking?”

“Involved meaning more than fucking, but less than a relationship.”

“What does that even mean?” Dean questioned, a hint of annoyance in his voice. 

I rolled my eyes and shrugged. “Why is it important? All that matters is that he can get me into the party.”

“Yeah Dean. Why does it matter?” Sam asked pointedly, a small smirk on his face that only his brother could see.

“Whatever,” he grumbled. “He better keep your ass out of trouble.”

“I’m perfectly capable of keeping my own ass out of trouble,” I shot back. “Besides, Sam will be at the party too. Don’t get your panties in such a twist.”

“How come Sam gets to go and I have to sit with my thumb up my ass?”

“Because Tom only had two invitations, each with a plus one.”

“And black tie isn’t exactly your style,” Sam added. “I thought you would be happy to sit this one out.”

Dean mumbled something incoherent but I had already drifted off into my thoughts. Tom Ellis. It had been three years since I last saw him, one year since I heard his intoxicating voice and six months since I had bothered to think about him again. Coincidentally it had also been six months since I started running with the Winchesters. Well, not so much a coincidence since I knew what had knocked his ass right out of my imagination, or rather, who.

“This it?” Dean’s voice pulled me back into the conversation and I shook my head slightly to clear it.

“Yep.” I popped the last letter, finishing with a grin. “He always did have a taste for overindulgence.” 

“I hate clubs,” Dean complained, speeding past the valet. As if he would trust some slippery little creep with his Baby.

“What’s to hate? Alcohol, hot bodies, music you can dance to.” I leaned up so I could hover over his shoulder.

“I can get alcohol and hot bodies at any bar without the bullshit cover charge and shit music.”

“Point taken, Debbie Downer.” I ruffled his hair, much to his chagrin. 

“Keep your hands to yourself.”

“I never thought I’d hear you say that in your life, Dean Winchester.”

“I didn’t say forever, just not now.” He flashed me that panty dropping smile that I still had yet to discover the remedy for. I had no rebuke either.

Dean found a parking spot quickly, mostly because it was a Tuesday night. As we emerged from the car, I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. Tom Ellis was quite possibly the most charming man I’d ever met, even compared to my present company, and I wasn’t sure just how our reunion would go. That’s a lie; I’m pretty sure he would try to get me back into his bed one more time. It wouldn’t be the worst way to spend my evening, but I felt a little guilty for having these thoughts despite my current single status. 

Ok, truth time. I may have developed a tiny crush on the older Winchester. I may have also kept my mouth shut about it because it never seemed like a good time to tell him. Demons, angels, the end of the world, yadda yadda. I’m also pretty sure that Dean doesn’t do crushes. Drunken, wild, one night stands, yes. Good morning kisses, late night snuggles, no. Even though my hunter lifestyle didn’t exactly afford any opportunities for a lasting relationship, I simply felt too old for the meaningless sex bullshit. And with Dean, it wouldn’t be meaningless. 

“Fuck, I’m too young to be this old,” I muttered to myself.

“What was that?” Sam asked as we rounded the corner. Winchesters and their bionic ears.

“Noth-hofuck,” I stammered, skidding to a halt. I hadn’t expected the man himself to be waiting for us outside.

There he was; Tom Ellis. Leaning his slender body against the north side of the club, clad in a form fitting black suit and crisp white shirt, just idly watching the crowd. A lit cigarette was dangling from his left hand, the other casually tucked into his pants pocket. He was still sporting that slight stubble I loved and vividly remember having rubbed all over my body, all those years ago. 

Apparently I wasn’t the only one staring, but I was definitely the only one enjoying my view. “That him?” Dean asked curtly, but didn’t have to wait for my answer.

It was as if Tom had felt me eye fucking him from a short distance and turned to meet my gaze. A sly smile crept onto his perfectly gorgeous face as recognition beamed in his eyes. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and stood up from the wall, waiting for me to come to him. And Goddammit, I did.

“Tom Ellis.” The name slid off my tongue like honey. 

“Kitten,” he mused, opening his arms which I slipped easily into. “Bloody hell, you look good.”

I vaguely heard a gruff ‘you gotta be fucking kidding me’ behind me, but I was too busy breathing in Tom’s clean, musky scent with a touch of tobacco. At this rate I would be on my back with both legs in the air by midnight. Get a grip!

“Thank you, but I’m wearing torn jeans and a days old tank top.” I leaned back to look him in the eye. “You’re just being cheeky.”

“You forget, I’ve seen what’s under those ratty clothes.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Trust me, you look ravishing.”

Thank fuck Sam cleared his throat just then or I may have let Tom continue his descent towards my lips. I stepped back and gestured towards my anxious comrades.

“Tom, this is Sam and Dean Winchester.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sam offered, always polite, extending his hand. 

“Pleasure,” Tom answered back, equally polite and charming as fuck.

Dean said nothing, just offered his hand. I frowned at him and quirked a brow.

“Wow, that’s quite a grip,” Tom quipped. “I like that.”

“He’s my bodyguard.” I winked at Dean, hoping to ease his obvious tension. He graced me with half a lip curl.

“And what a body to guard.” Tom smirked, pulling me by the waist to his side. “I imagine one of you blokes has had the pleasure?”

I groaned, covering my eyes with one hand as if that would magically make me disappear.

“Can’t say that we have,” Sam replied with a chuckle. He was rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous tell of his.

“Well shame on you both!” Tom chided. “I couldn’t keep my hands off this saucy little--”

“Maybe we should go inside!” I interrupted. I could feel the rose in my cheeks spreading faster than I could try to contain it.

“We do have a damn job to do,” Dean ground out. I noticed his fists clenching at his sides and briefly flirted with the idea that he was jealous. Right, jealous that he wasn’t the only smooth talker around here. 

“Right, well, allow me Kitten.” Tom gave me a gentle push at the small of my back and guided me towards the entrance. “This way gentlemen,” he called over his shoulder.

“British douche,” Dean mumbled, hurrying his steps to catch up to us.

“Relax dude,” Sam whispered, falling in step. “We’re guests remember?”

Dean grumbled another incoherent thought and trudged past the bouncer, grimacing immediately at the steady thump thump thump of the music playing inside.

We made our way through the first level, Tom throwing tidbits of information at the boys about the conception of the decor and liquor selection, all the while keeping his hand on the small of my back. It made me feel a little giddy, watching women’s heads turn and glare at me, wondering how I managed to get the attention of the hottest bachelor in town. If they only knew.

I kept stealing glances at the brothers. Sam definitely looked out of his element, hands shoved in his pockets and eyes focusing on anything besides the half naked women dancing on tables all around him. Dean, whom I more than expected to be ogling all of the different specimens, surprisingly kept his eyes locked on Tom and I like he expected an attack. He did have some trust issues, but I would think he’d have enough faith in me to know I wouldn’t knowingly put myself in danger. Maybe my bodyguard joke was a little closer to the mark than I thought.

When he finally made it to the quiet confines of Tom’s private elevator, he spoke as if we were the only two people in sight.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, Kitten.” He flashed me a grin that I knew all too well; trouble.

“You know I don’t like surprises.”

“I think this one will be an exception.” His breath tickled my ear as he leaned in and ding the doors opened. 

The familiar interior of his home welcomed us and we all stepped out. I heard a hushed wow from Sam when his eyes locked on the expansive view of the night sky and city below from the living room. Even Dean gave a hum of approval at the impressive bar to the right. 

“Would you care for a drink?” He asked to the room.

“No, thanks,” Sam declined politely, eyes still glued to the window.

“I may be persuaded,” I smirked. “Seeing as you have all the good shit.”

“Indeed I do.” There was a lot of innuendo in that statement. “Dean?”

“Whiskey. Neat.”

“Coming right up.” Tom finally broke contact, making it seem like he was heading over to the bar, but stopped mid stride. “On second thought, I’ll leave the drinks to my best bartender.”

The smile I was sporting suddenly dropped. “What?”

“Surprise, Kitten.” Tom slid his hands into his pockets as my heart stopped dead in my chest. He couldn’t mean… “Maze, our guest of honor has arrived,” he called out. 

“Fuck,” I puffed out as the sound of clicking heels made its way down the hall. 

“Who is--”

“Maze,” I breathed out, essentially cutting Dean off as she came into view. 

There she was in all her glory. Soft, caramel skin, dark flowing hair and lean body all wrapped up in black leather, with a smoldering stare. She stopped a mere foot from me, eyes travelling over my face and curves as if committing it to memory. 

“My sweet girl,” she cooed. “Did you miss me?”

“I uh--” I cleared my throat, willing my voice to work. Before my brain could even compute what was happening, she stalked in like a cat, working her fingers into my hair and pulled me close to crash her lips against mine. 

“Oh shit,” I heard Dean deadpan to my right.

My body went on autopilot at the familiar touch and I grabbed her waist, losing myself in her lips, teeth and tongue when she silently slipped into a more intimate kiss. I had kissed this woman hundreds of times, but she still took my breath away. 

“I love reunions.” The sound of Tom’s voice was like a bucket of cold water, ricocheting me out of my reverence. I took a step back, after steadying myself.

“Wow. Um. Maze.” I haphazardly motioned to the rather stunned men in the room. “Sam. Dean.”

Maze set her sights on Sam first; the poor bastard. She sauntered over to him, holding out her hand and not-so-subtly undressing him with her eyes. 

“Hmm. Big boy.”

“Heh, yeah, um. Sam.” He practically tripped over himself to grasp her hand.

“Saaammm,” she drew out seductively, “I like the way that sounds.”

“Oh God,” I groaned to myself. I was still recovering from my accosting, but recognized the swagger of her voice.

“And you.” She walked with purpose towards Dean, not even bothering to extend her hand. “I can tell you’re in the right place.” She looked him up and down. “Just our type.”

“Maze,” I warned gently. “Ease up.”

“I’m just having some fun baby girl. Besides, you’re still my favorite.”

“Ok, whoa.” Dean seemed to shake his previous shock. “So you two…?”

“Used to fuck?” Maze finished for him without missing a beat.

“Maze!” I hissed.

“Actually us three,” Tom added with a shit eating grin, coming to stand beside her.

“Fucking shit, Tom!” I rubbed at my temples furiously. “They didn’t know.”

“You’re not ashamed of us, are you Kitten?”

“No, I just…” I looked helplessly between Sam and Dean, trying to read their expressions. “Like to leave certain things in the past.”

“You sure we can’t convince you to do a little...reminiscing?” Tom quirked a brow, leaning towards me in a predatory manner.

“So what can you tell us about this party?” Sam interrupted mercifully. He could always tell when things were getting sidetracked or in this case, extremely uncomfortable. I thanked him profusely with my eyes.

Tom’s face fell momentarily as he switched his gaze to Sam, allowing me time to gather my wits and retreat a few steps backwards towards Dean. Even though he wasn’t touching me, I could feel his body looming inches away which brought me comfort. I glanced down and cleared my throat when I noticed Maze studying me, curious and thoughtful.

“It’s always a big to-do. Bunch of rich slags gathered together to celebrate their impeccable wealth.” Tom started to make his way towards the couch, a silent invitation for everyone to follow. Maze set to work on the drinks. “This chap happens to hold the largest collection of religious artifacts this side of the Mississippi, despite having no interest in actual religion. He simply likes to procure things that fetch an impressive price.”

I sat down on the opposite couch facing Tom while Dean took up residency to my right, throwing an arm over the back of the couch as if he was ready to put it around my shoulders at any minute. Always my vigilant bodyguard. Sam sat in an arm chair to my left.

“And you know he has the book for sure?” Sam asked.

“Yes, I’ve seen it on one of his many, tedious house tours.” Tom rolled his eyes, crossing one leg over the other. “I can’t believe I actually have to endure another torturous evening with that dull bastard.”

Dean snorted; this pompous asshole couldn’t even fathom the real meaning of torture. Poor, spoiled little rich douche, having to get all dressed up to drink expensive champagne and eat delicious catered food while the team of hunters risked life and limb to save the world every damn day.

I reached out and patted Dean’s knee, reading his thoughts behind that scowl on his face. I understood his anger, but also knew it wasn’t worth a fight. Tom knew what I did for a living to a degree, but I never gave him the full disclosure on the horror we faced every day. I pretty much eluded to being a glorified researcher of lore, sometimes coming in contact with actual phenomena.

“Thank you again for getting Sam and I in.” I smiled fondly. “Who is Sam’s date by the way?”

“Me,” Maze beamed, holding out a Crown and cranberry on the rocks to me. She remembered my favorite girly drink.

“What?” I asked, face falling again.

“What’s the matter sweetie?” She handed Dean’s drink to him before sauntering over to Sam. “Jealous?” She perched on the arm of his chair, throwing her arm around his neck. 

“Not jealous, just surprised,” I murmured, taking a sip of my drink. “Didn’t pin you for this kind of shindig.”

“I love a good party.” She grinned, giving Sam a squeeze. “And a good piece of arm candy.”

Sam chuckled nervously, not quite knowing what to do with his hands as he fidgeted in his seat. He finally decided on leaving them in his lap, perhaps hiding any fascination he had with Maze being so close and smelling so good. I knew the feeling.

“Besides, Maze is excellent at creating a distraction if need be,” Tom pointed out.

“We’re hoping to keep it discreet,” I clarified. “We don’t need any unwanted attention.”

“Kitten, it’s inevitable when you enter a room,” Tom wiggled his eyebrows. “It’s hard not to pay attention.”

“Ugh, enough.” I practically gulped the rest of my drink, the flattery starting to make me uncomfortable again. I hadn’t held the interest of a man with such intensity in a long time.

“What? I’m not wrong.” Tom turned his attention to Dean, who was silently fuming into his drink. “Isn’t that right, Dean?”

Dean blinked twice, surprised at being acknowledged, but also for the question. “Excuse me?”

“I find it hard to believe that you don’t notice the attention this lovely woman garners.” Tom leaned forward, the corner of his mouth turned up in a knowing smirk. “Being her bodyguard and all.”

I squinted at the two as they shared a look that I couldn’t decipher. Tom’s words vaguely sounded like a challenge, but it didn’t make sense why he would be baiting Dean. 

“I notice.” For some reason those two words, spoken so low and firm, made my arms break out in goosebumps. 

“Ok, well, moving right along.” I jumped up and headed over the bar to set my empty glass down. “The party is tomorrow evening. Let’s talk strategy now and then we’ll meet back here tomorrow so we can leave together.”

“No sleepover?” Tom pouted. “I thought we could do body shots and have naked pillow fights.”

“You realize that doesn’t actually happen,” I quipped.

“I seem to remember that one night in Vegas--”

“Ah! Shh!” I cut Maze off with a stern look and my pointer finger daring her to continue. “We are not staying here tonight.”

“Why not? Afraid something might happen?” Tom asked with a cocky smile on his face.

I opened my mouth to say something, but my mind decided to check out on me at that very moment. Truth be told, being in close proximity with this man always led to bad decisions, mostly entailing some kind of nudity. So yes, maybe I was a little afraid something would happen. Not that it wouldn’t be satisfying, but…

“Look, she’s thinking about it,” Maze pointed out. “Taking a trip down memory lane, sweetie?”

The sound of Dean slamming down his empty glass on the coffee table was enough to startle everyone in the room. “Can we move this along? I’m tired,” he ground out evenly.

“It’s been a long drive,” Sam explained softly, trying to justify his brother’s outburst. “We still need to find a motel and get something to eat, so maybe we could strategize tomorrow?”

“Right, look,” Tom stood, holding his arms out as a peace offering. “I do have a guest room that could accommodate two of you nicely.” He turned to me, a sincere look on his face. “No sense spending money on a room when there’s a perfectly good one here. This couch is quite comfy as well.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I’m pretty sure my voice didn’t hold much authority as the idea of sleeping on sheets that didn’t have questionable stains and a mattress that didn’t sink in the middle, sounded like pure heaven.

“I’ll keep my hands where you can see them.” He held them up and wiggled his fingers. “I’ll even have the kitchen send up some food. We do have some pretty delectable desserts.”

I sighed and locked eyes with Sam first, giving him a tired head tilt. He seemed to mull it over briefly, stealing concerned glances at his brother before finally giving a shrug that said ‘I’m ok, if you are.’ I then turned to Dean, who was still sitting with his forearms resting on his knees, leaning forward and looking at nothing in particular. He seemed tense, but I couldn’t argue with Tom’s logic.

“What do you say Dean?” I asked softly, coming to sit on the arm of the couch and grasping his shoulder. “Sounds like there’s pie in it for ya.” I grinned down at him, but he still didn’t look at me.

“Fine.” He stood up abruptly, nearly knocking me over as he shrugged my hand off. “I’ll get our stuff.” Without another word or look at any of us, he stalked off towards the elevator.

I stared at his retreating back, mouth slightly agape. Where had this attitude come from? He hadn’t balked when I first came to him with the idea of Tom helping us infiltrate the party in order to acquire the book we needed. I knew Tom had laid it on a little thick, but what the hell did he care? As much flirting as I had been subjected to in sleazy bars, diners and even on cases, I felt he owed me one. Besides, we were being offered comfortable accommodations and hot, fresh food. Since when did Dean not get excited about pie?

“Dean, wait!” I called out, springing to my feet. “I’ll come with you.”

“I don’t need any--” But it was too late and I was stepping in beside him just as the doors closed.


	2. Jealousy is a Green Eyed Winchester

“Hey, what’s your problem?” I asked, facing Dean’s right side as he stared straight ahead. My arms were crossed, as if waiting for a petulant toddler to answer me.

“I’m tired,” he repeated thinly.

“Oh don’t give me that bullshit answer. It’s me you’re talking to.”

He turned his head to look me dead in the eye right before the doors opened again. “I’m tired of the non stop flirting.”

It took me a second to catch up to him, a little shocked by his admission. He was already steadily making it through the crowd towards the front door. A few times I had to snatch my hand away from the drunken leeches trying to get my attention. The old familiar smell of sweat, various fragrances and alcohol drenched me to the point that I found myself taking a deep, cleansing breath once I hit the street. Dean was still a few paces in front of me.

“Since when does a little flirting bother you?” I asked, falling into step with him as we rounded the corner.

“A little flirting?” he snorted. “It was basically foreplay.”

“That’s just how he is,” I defended. “He doesn’t mean anything by it,” I lied.

“Now who’s bullshitting?” Dean retorted. “I’m pretty sure he would have fucked you on the coffee table while Sam and I watched.”

I pulled a sour face at the visual, but he wasn’t wrong. Tom would always try to get back into my pants, no matter what the circumstances. He was a handsome, cocky ladies man who almost always got what he wanted. I wasn’t naive to believe that he didn’t run his game on any available piece of pussy he ran into, but it still felt good to be in his sights. In fact, he was the only man who made me feel sexy, wanted, and uninhibited.

“Since when do you turn down free porn?” I kidded, but Dean didn’t laugh. He didn’t even pull a smile.

“I don’t like it,” he deadpanned. 

“ _Why?_ ” My brow was wrinkled now and I couldn’t decide between confusion or annoyance. Dean was in no way a prude so I couldn’t fathom why Tom was bugging him so much. Quite the contrary, I thought they would get along swimmingly!

“I just fucking don’t, OK?”

“These are all great answers,” I replied sarcastically.

“What did you even see in that guy?” Dean barked, finally making eye contact.

“Well, for starters, he never acted jealous when another man would flirt with me.”

Dean halted his steps and I made it a few steps ahead before I realized he had stopped. I looked back at him, irritation written all over my face and watched as he did a double take at my words. A small spark of hope ignited in my belly, but I tried to push it deep down.

“I’m not jealous,” he responded indignantly. “I’m annoyed.”

“Fine, you’re annoyed.” I rolled my eyes. “I don’t see what the big deal is. You do it all the damn time.”

Dean scoffed, not really having a rebuke for that, and stomped off towards the Impala. I made an audible sigh and trudged along behind him again, not quite sure what else to say. He was going around in circles and it was making my head spin. For a fleeting moment I actually thought he was jealous, but now I wasn’t so sure. Was he just annoyed that Tom had taken the spotlight for a change? If there was one thing I knew for certain about Dean Winchester, it was that he craved attention.

He fidgeted with the keys to the trunk as we came upon Baby and I took to leaning against the quarter panel with my arms crossed. I couldn’t be bothered to figure out the intricacies of Dean’s mind at the moment. I was tired, hungry, and a flood of emotions were running through me at seeing both Tom and Maze. Now I had this shit to deal with.

“I’m sorry.” The apology was spoken so softly that I thought I had imagined it.

“What?” I asked, turning to look at Dean. His hand was paused with the key in the lock and he was staring at the rear windshield, the fight momentarily gone from his eyes.

“All this information about your past caught me off guard, OK?” His eyes flicked over to me but didn’t hold my gaze. “I guess I’m not handling it so well.”

“Well I’m sorry if ‘I was in a threesome’ didn’t exactly make its way into a conversation,” I sassed. “Besides, it’s history. Why does it bother you?”

“I guess I didn’t see you as that type of girl.”

“What _type_ is that, Dean?” I asked defensively.

“Look, don’t get all defensive, sweetheart.” He held up his hands, taking a step towards me. “I just meant that you’re normally more reserved. You don’t flirt with guys at the bar, or any guys for that matter.”

“I can _be_ sexual, Dean.” I now had my hip cocked to one side with my hands on both of them. “I just don’t put it on display like you do.”

“You calling me a slut?” he asked lowly, but the corner of his mouth being turned up showed that he was joking.

“I don’t know.” I tapped my pointer finger against my bottom lip. “Can you tell me the last name of the girl you hooked up with most recently?”

His face fell immediately and I could just see the gears in his head working overtime trying to pull the name from memory. “Shut up,” he mumbled, flinging the trunk open. He would have clipped me if I hadn’t ducked out of the way.

“We just deal with sex in different ways.” I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder while he grabbed his and Sam’s duffles. “You seem to get a rush out of the chase. You’re OK with being unattached and moving on to the next adventure. I prefer to have a connection.”

“I have connections,” he argued lamely.

“With more than just your body parts,” I said pointedly. “I’m talking about trust, intrigue, passion.”

“I know all about passion, sweetheart.” He closed the trunk and threw me a wink that had my brain malfunctioning for a split second.

“You know all about lust. There’s a difference.” 

“Enlighten me,” he challenged, starting to walk back towards the club. I immediately fell into step with him.

“Passion is about intense feelings. You want to protect them, be with them in every way, love them.” My voice faltered on the last bit of my statement, a familiar sting in my chest. “You would do anything for them. You just have to _have_ them.”

I hadn’t noticed Dean’s intense gaze until I finished my rant, but now that I was aware I started to feel uneasy. I may have been referring to my old romance, but my words rang true to my current situation as well. I couldn’t deny that my feelings for Dean were in the same boat.

“And lust?” he asked, licking his bottom lip.

“Lust is just about getting off. You’re attracted to someone, there’s chemistry, you just know that they can satisfy your craving.” I cleared my throat, rubbing my palms across my jean clad thighs. 

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. If that’s what you’re looking for.” I shrugged. “I prefer a more intense fulfillment to instant gratification.”

A beat of silence passed between us and I could see in my peripheral that Dean’s jaw was working. He always did that when he was struggling with something, especially when it came to saying the right thing. I waited patiently, as always, taking in the cool breeze and sounds of the approaching entrance to Lux. 

Just when it looked like he had settled on something, the loud cackle of a drunken woman startled us as we rounded the corner. She was being escorted by her two friends, just barely, as they struggled to keep her upright. I chuckled and shook my head; another sorority girl that couldn’t hold her liquor.

“Ah to be young and intolerant again,” I mused. “How I miss puking on the sidewalk in front of strangers.”

I nodded to the bouncer, who recognized us and let us through. We made it all the way through the crowd again without incident and stepped onto the elevator. Once inside I nudged Dean in the shoulder.

“A hundred bucks says Maze is devouring Sam right now.”

He barked a laugh and it was music to my ears. “You’re on. Sammy’s probably pissing his pants with a woman like that.”

When the doors opened I had to clamp a hand over my mouth to keep the bubble of laughter from exploding. There was Maze, sitting in Sam’s lap, running her fingers through his hair and whispering something, inappropriate I was sure, into his ear. Sam had a mixture of discomfort and arousal on his face while his one arm snaked around her waist and the other was glued to the arm of the chair, his knuckles turning white.

“You’re back!” he practically squeaked. “Our food should be here shortly. I ordered you both burgers.”

“Fifty-fifty,” I murmured to Dean. “Thanks Sam.” I smiled at him as I passed, shaking my head in disapproval at Maze. “Maze, sweetie. Go easy on this one.”

“Oh please, he’s the one that’ll have to go easy on me.” She winked at Sam before climbing off his lap. “I can tell things about people, you know.”

“Giggity,” Dean quipped, wiggling his eyebrows at his distressed brother.

“Like you, baby girl.” She reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I can tell when you want something.” Her eyes made a fluid transition from me, to Dean, and back to me again without him noticing. “Or someone.”

I swallowed hard, the blood suddenly rushing to my head. She was worse than the Winchesters and their ever watchful eyes; she had intuition. It was very helpful in the bedroom, but not so much right now.

“I’m going to put my stuff away.” I cocked my head to the side in a quick gesture for the boys to follow me. “I’ll show you where the guest room is.”

Sam nearly tripped over himself as he sprung to his feet and hurriedly followed me down the hallway, Dean in tow. I opened a door on the left and led them into a nice sized bedroom, fully loaded with a king sized bed, a flat screen hanging on the opposite wall, and en suite bathroom. The view from the living room transitioned into this room as well with a large bay window, the curtains currently pulled back.

“Jesus, Maze was practically trying to ride my dick back there,” Sam spoke up, exasperated. “I don’t know what would have happened if you two hadn’t come back right then.”

I dropped my bag on the floor, taken aback by Sam’s choice of words but then I couldn’t help but release the laugh I had been holding in since Dean and I got back. “Maze is very direct. When she wants something, she goes for it. And you,” I pointed at Sam, “happen to be the lucky one.”

“That’s a first,” Dean interjected. “Usually the ladies go for big bro.”

“Maze has a very particular set of tastes.” I clicked my tongue and glanced back at Sam who was now sitting on the bed. “She must sense that you do too.” I quirked a brow at him and the ten shades of red he turned was absolutely adorable.

“What do you mean?” he feigned innocence.

“You know _exactly_ what I mean,” I said pointedly. Sam may have been a good little boy scout in public, but I could see the raging control freak just beneath the surface. Having been subjected to a militant lifestyle with his father and Dean at the helm, Sam was bound to rebel in other aspects of his life. His rebellion was taking control in the bedroom, which meant the rough stuff that Maze always craved. 

“What am I missing?” Dean asked, watching the silent exchange between Sam and I. 

“Nothing,” we answered simultaneously.

“Weirdos,” Dean mumbled, tossing his duffle next to the nightstand. “So who’s sharing?”

“I think that will be you and I, Dean. I have a feeling Sam will have alternate accommodations,” I teased.

“Very funny,” Sam grumbled. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Oh c’mon, Sammy. Live a little.” Dean ruffled through his bag until he found a stray condom tucked into the inside pocket. He tossed it to his brother and stifled a laugh when it hit him in the forehead. 

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“Don’t be so reluctant, Sam.” I ruffled his gorgeous locks. “You’ll have a good time. Trust me.” I winked.

“I don’t know how I feel about sleeping with a woman you’ve already…”

“It was three years ago. That’s hardly sloppy seconds territory.” This time I smacked him in the shoulder. 

“You could compare notes,” Dean offered with a smug smile. I gave him my best signature ‘Sam Winchester bitch face’ which I had keenly picked up on the past few months.

“Just for that, I won’t entertain you with any of my Maze highlight reels.”

Dean looked positively remorseful as I set about unpacking some night clothes and toiletries. “No fair,” he complained.

“You’ll just have to use your imagination.”

“Oh I will, sweetheart.” 

I didn’t miss the underlying roughness of his voice and I shuddered at the thought of being a star in one of Dean Winchester’s fantasies. I was fairly certain it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the typical male intrigue behind lesbian relations.

“Knock, knock,” Tom said from the doorway since it was already open. “Dinner is served, courtesy of my fantastic chef.”

“Thank you, Tom.” I rubbed my stomach idly. “I’m starving.”

“Forgive me if I don’t join you, but I have some VIP schmoozing that I must attend to.” He sounded bored with the idea.

“That’s too bad,” Dean tisked. I rolled my eyes; not this again.

Tom bit his bottom lip, looking Dean up and down with a smirk. He could clearly see the contempt the older brother had for him and it only served to fuel his defiance. He crossed the room and embraced me, making a show of running his hands up and down my back.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Kitten.” He pulled back to look at me and I saw the pulse of his pupils. I knew that look. “I can’t leave without a goodnight kiss.”

With gentle determination, he cupped my face and dove in expertly to crash his lips to mine. I let out a small gasp but didn’t pull away as my senses were assaulted with his familiar scent, taste and delicious feel. Suddenly, it was three years ago and I was lost in the sensations coursing through my body. I unconsciously parted my lips and allowed him full access, unaware of the two sets of eyes watching us with equal disdain. 

The kiss was over too soon and I was left gasping for air, holding onto his shirt to ground myself. Apparently he was having a similar serene moment because his eyelids were drooping as he looked at me intently. “Just as sweet as ever,” he murmured before pulling away.

He straightened his jacket nonchalantly and headed for the door. “Gentlemen,” he called over his shoulder before disappearing into the hallway.

I was still rooted in my spot, staring after him and clutching a hand to my chest. I couldn’t believe the effect that man still had on me after all this time. Before this I was certain I could navigate this visit without having too much physical contact with him, but he was proving to be a fierce competitor.

“Let’s go eat.” Sam broke the awkward silence and stood up from the bed, touching my elbow to bring me out of my reverie. 

Before I could make a move towards the door, Dean shouldered his way past me and made a swift exit. So he was still having a hard time with this. He was just going to have to get used to the fact that I was indeed _not_ a nun before I teamed up with them. I’m sure his annoyance came from a place of sisterly love and he just wanted to protect me, but he needed to simmer down.

Mouth watering cheeseburgers and fries were waiting for Dean and I while Sam settled in to enjoy his chicken sandwich and side salad. We ate in silence in the living room, too engrossed in the delicious food or our own personal thoughts to be bothered with speech. Maze had announced that she had to work a shift downstairs, but would be sure to ‘tuck Sam in’ later in the evening.

By the time Dean dove into his dutch apple pie, I was exhausted. I excused myself, planted a smooch on Sam’s temple and headed back towards the guest room. My thoughts were consumed with cushy mattresses and sublime sheets. If I hadn’t been bunking with Dean I may have slept completely naked in order to enjoy the softness against my entire body.

I rummaged through my bag and pulled out a pair of dark blue sleep shorts and a black t-shirt, with the sleeves cut off, that had a faded White Zombie logo. It was the most comfortable shirt I ever owned and I kept holding onto it like a security blanket. I then grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste and headed into the bathroom. I flirted with the idea of taking a nice soak in the pristinely clean tub, but I knew I would be fast asleep before my toes even started to prune.

As I went through my evening routine, my thoughts wandered into the past. Tom’s cheeky smile, his luscious lips, the sound of his deep, throaty moans, the thin line of hair that traveled from the bottom of his navel down to his…

I stopped when I almost choked on the frothy mess that was leaking from my mouth. Apparently I had been brushing way too hard as my mind wandered. I spit and rinsed, then stared at my reflection for a while. I had been so sure of my feelings for Dean, but now that I was here with Tom, a whole flood of emotions were hitting me all at once. I started to have an argument with myself.

_It would be so easy and fun to sleep with Tom again. I haven’t had sex in months!_

_No, you can’t. Do you want to endanger a potential future with Dean?_

_Dean hasn’t once made a move to suggest that he thought of me as more than just a friend. When he wants someone, he doesn’t hesitate._

_Although, he has been acting like a jealous boyfriend ever since Tom first embraced you on the street. Maybe that’s his way of telling you. You know he isn’t good with words._

_He said he was annoyed, not jealous, remember? He’s my protector and he doesn’t want to see me get hurt, that’s all._

_Maybe you should just ask him._

_Maybe I should just go wait naked in Tom’s bed._

_Maybe you should go wait naked in Dean’s bed._

I huffed in annoyance at the merry-go-round in my head that was doing nothing to calm my nerves. Why did this have to be so complicated? I should end this right now and ask Dean flat out if there is any hope for something more than friendship. If he says no, I can drown myself in hot, sweaty sex with Tom and stop the constant turmoil. If he says yes, then I can heave a huge sigh of relief and fuck his brains out all over these 800 thread count sheets. 

It seemed like a simple enough plan, but as I opened the door to the bathroom, my chest puffed out and ready to initiate the awkward conversation, I stuttered to a halt. What if he did say no? Sure, I could lose myself in Tom for a few hours, but then what? My feelings for Dean wouldn’t just disappear, I would still have to pick up the next day and continue hunting with them. I’d have to keep watching him flirt and leave the bars with every woman except me. Or worse, what if Dean thought it would be too awkward and made us go our separate ways? I couldn’t imagine going off on my own again, especially since I had grown so fond of both the Winchesters. 

I startled when Dean entered the room, shuffling tiredly towards his duffel on the floor. I watched him gather his pajama bottoms and an old AC/DC t-shirt, my heart beating faster with every movement. When he stood up he finally noticed me staring, chewing on my bottom lip with an anxious look on my face. 

“You OK?” he asked worriedly, approaching me slowly.

“Dean, I…” My words were snuffed out as I imagined the Impala pulling away, leaving me in the dust. “I’m beat. If you want to watch some TV, that’s fine.”

He studied me for another few seconds and I could tell he knew I had wanted to say more, but either he was too tired or just didn’t think it was important because he nodded and allowed me to scoot by without another thought. He took his turn in the bathroom, closing the door lightly to leave me by myself again.

I scolded myself for being such a coward as I pulled back the covers and slipped into the left side of the bed. The possibility of Dean saying no became much too powerful over the happiness that would have ensued if he said yes. Besides, the way things were right now wasn’t so bad. Sure, there were moments when I just wanted to grab his handsome face and kiss him all over, but I was able to rein it in well enough to move on with my day. We were a trio of hunters that enjoyed each other’s company, had each other’s back and started to become family. I couldn’t let my selfish need to unburden mess that up.

Sharing a bed with Dean would be mildly torturous, being so close to him but not being able to touch him. Still, I was comforted knowing that he was there, even if only in a platonic sense. It would feel good having a man beside me, listening to his steady breathing and knowing he would be there when I woke up in the morning. I missed that companionship, since I usually had my own adjoining room while on the road.

Those blissful thoughts in combination with the amazing bed had me lulled to sleep before Dean had even finished brushing his teeth. When he emerged from the bathroom, he saw my sleeping form and padded across the room quietly. Normally he would have turned the TV on and kept the volume low, but he didn’t want to disturb me. 

I stirred slightly when I felt the dip in the bed, but settled down again when I felt the heat from Dean’s body radiating so close to me. I didn’t notice that he had settled onto his side facing me and watched me drift back off to sleep, a pensive look on his face. 

“So much for _my_ goodnight kiss,” he said softly, knowing I was too far gone to respond.


	3. Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

I’m not sure what caused my eyes to flutter open in the wee hours of the morning, but when consciousness started to fade in, I realized that I was no longer lying on my back. Instead, I was on my right side with a very warm, solid mass pressed up against my back. I focused my attention downward and saw a familiar arm draped across my midsection.

My heart went into overdrive as it dawned on me that I was playing little spoon to Dean’s cuddling. His breath was even and soft, so he hadn’t woken up when I did. I swallowed hard, not quite knowing what to do. Of course I would have gladly died in this position, being so intimately close to Dean, but I had a feeling this sleeping arrangement wasn’t intentional and he would freak out the moment he came to. 

There wasn’t any reason why I couldn’t enjoy this feeling for just a few more minutes though, right? I sighed and closed my eyes again, allowing my sense of touch to overcompensate. He felt so cozy, tucked into me like we were made to fit together. I let myself believe for half a second that it was true. I allowed my left hand to drift down and settle on top of the arm that was hugging my waist. 

Dean jerked slightly, but instead of pulling away he murmured incoherently and pulled me closer, if that was even possible. I nearly whimpered when his hand barely grazed the skin directly beneath my breasts. I concentrated on keeping my vitals under control because I was way too wound up to relax now. His smell, the warmth of his breath and body pressed tightly against me, the cute little sounds he made in his sleep and...oh sweet baby Jesus.

My eyes shot open at the slight twitch against the curve of my left butt cheek. It was the unmistakable feeling of morning wood. I dared to wriggle my lower half slightly and practically spontaneously combusted when he completely hardened against me. My body responded instantly, a rush of heat and wetness to my core that had me shuddering and I worried that he would be able to feel it. 

I knew that I should save us both some dignity, retreat to the bathroom and pretend that I hadn’t just felt Dean Winchester’s tempting erection pressed up against me. Unfortunately, my brain couldn’t communicate with my lady parts in the midst of all this and I found myself softly grinding against him. I didn’t quite give me the friction that I needed, but just feeling his firmness butting up against my softest spots practically had me panting and fluttering my eyes closed. I could easily fill in the gaps in my mind of what it would actually feel like to have him slip inside me. 

I barely registered the soft groan from Dean’s lips as I lightly gripped his wrist, wanting to anchor myself to him as I continued my ministrations. I imagined him waking up, gripping my hips so he could take control and rock me against his cock until I begged for him. He would quickly dispose of our sleep bottoms, collect my left leg into the crook of his arm so I was completely open to him and push into me from behind. He would nip at my neck and whisper hot words of encouragement into my ear while I moaned his name louder with each quickened thrust.

I was knocked out of my fantasy when I felt a bruising grip on my waist, holding me still. I was suddenly aware that my heavy breathing wasn’t the only desperate sound resonating in the room. I opened my eyes, but didn’t dare chance a look behind me to see if Dean was fully awake. My cheeks were flushed with both arousal and embarrassment at being caught gyrating against my friend. _Your friend, remember?_

Seconds passed by and he hadn’t released me, nor had he made an attempt to speak. I started to panic a little, trying to decide if I should pretend to be asleep and that my innocent little lap dance was merely a reaction to a dream I was having. I had a feeling he wouldn’t buy it.

“Dean?” I whispered breathlessly. _Please be asleep, please be asleep._

“Yeah?” His voice was roughly laced with sleep and, I can imagine, tension from this impromptu wake up call. _Shit._

“I’m sorry,” I pleaded quietly. “I didn’t mean to…” _Molest you in your sleep?_

“It’s OK,” he hissed, rolling away from me to lie on his back. “Just...give me a minute.”

I nodded, not that he could see me and slapped a hand over my face. I was mortified.

“I’ll just uh...go take a shower.” I lept up from the bed, careful not to make eye contact and shuffled awkwardly into the bathroom. “Take your time,” I called out before I shut the door.

_‘Take your time?’ Ugh, moron!_ I leaned against the door, taking a moment to gather my wits. This crush on Dean was getting out of hand and I needed to pull it together. Now I was resorting to dry humping him while he was unconscious. _Shower. You need a shower._

I quickly made work of turning on the water and tossing my clothes to the floor, realizing they were a little sweaty from my brief indiscretion. Before the water was even hot enough I hopped in, propping myself up with one hand against the back tiles, allowing the water to run over my skin. My intention was to cool off, but as my mind wandered to Dean in the next room most likely furiously jerking off, my temperature flared.

I let myself flirt with the idea that he was thinking about me while he did it. I mean, I had been the one working him over until he was practically bursting at the seams. I groaned softly, remembering the feeling of his thickness against me and my insides tightened automatically. Then, I realized that if he truly wanted me, he would have kept me in that bed at all costs instead of ‘needing a minute.’ It was like a splash of cold water; Dean was not interested.

I sighed grudgingly and began to lather myself with soap, washing away all filthy thoughts and hopeful wishes about Dean Winchester. My body was clearly craving some kind of attention, but my mind had been confusing itself by overthinking every little detail. Dean didn’t want me, but Tom made it quite clear that he did. It wouldn’t be so bad to take the edge off with an old flame. Maybe then I could start to think clearly and move on with my life with the Winchesters. I could cure myself of this ridiculous crush on Dean, I really could! I had to do something, because it was starting to border on something more intense and I couldn’t fall into that one sided angst.

Once I was thoroughly clean and sure that I had given Dean enough time to recuperate, I emerged from the shower and began to dry off. I brushed my teeth and combed out the tangles in my hair, resigned to letting it air dry, then cursed when I realized that I had left all of my clean clothes in the bedroom. I wrapped the towel extra tight around my body and took a deep breath before inching the door open. 

Dean was casually sitting on the bed, eyes glued to the TV, idly flicking through channels as if nothing had happened. I cleared my throat and he gave me a sideways look that I couldn’t read.

“I left my clothes out here.” I pointed to my bag on the floor. This felt like an awkward morning after conversation.

He didn’t say anything, just got out of bed, grabbed my bag and walked over to me. He stopped in front of me, the bag dangling in between our bodies and stared. He seemed to be waiting for me to say something first, but I couldn’t conjure any words. I felt my skin flush again and broke eye contact, not being able to handle the scrutiny. 

“I need to shower.” Dean broke first, handing the bag to me. “Room’s all yours.”

“Thanks,” I whispered pathetically. 

He regarded me for a few more seconds before sliding past me, not without touching me of course, and closed himself in the bathroom. I let out a woosh, not even realizing I had been holding my breath the entire time. I’m not sure what I had expected, but the exchange had been odd to say the least. I didn’t like not knowing how he was feeling about all of this. 

I changed into a pair of fitted black jeans and an olive green tank top, forgoing shoes for the time being and made my way towards the living room. I snickered when I noticed Sam was not occupying the couch, his pillow and blanket thrown haphazardly on one end. _Maze strikes again._

I seemed to be the only one up and about so I decided to make myself at home, seeing as this used to be my pseudo home for a while. I raided the kitchen and frowned, finding only a box of Multigrain Cheerios and bacon to work with. Tom was never big into cooking for himself and more often than not spent his evenings at restaurants or having his chef whip up something. Breakfast was mostly coffee and leftovers. 

I set to work on frying some bacon in a pan because I knew Dean would demand some kind of sustenance. The coffee maker automatically starting to brew a pot as I worked, the delightful aroma permeating the small kitchen. Once the bacon was finished I set it aside, snagged two pieces and poured myself a bowl of cereal. 

Just as I was balancing the bowl, plate and cup of coffee in my arms on my way to the living room I heard the elevator chime. I smirked when Sam came tip toeing in, wearing the same clothes as the night before.

“And where have you been all night, young man?” I teased in my best Mommy voice, startling him.

“Oh, hi, um.” He cleared his throat, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t think anyone else would be awake yet.”

“I see you took my advice.” I sat down on the couch, spreading out my meager feast. “You must be famished, but there isn’t much to eat in this joint.”

“It’s OK, I already ate.” He came to sit down next to me and I wrinkled my nose.

“TMI, dude.”

“What? No! I didn’t mean--that.”

“I’m teasing you, Sammy.” I grinned and took a sip of my coffee. “I take it you had a good night?”

He tried in vain to hide his smile, but I could see him fighting against it. “Maze is quite a handful.”

“Tell me about it,” I huffed. “I’m sure you handled it quite well, though.” I winked at him and stuffed a spoonful of Cheerios into my mouth.

“I know this probably sounds weird, but I _really_ needed that.”

“Really needed what?” Dean asked, choosing that exact moment to come waltzing into the room.

“Sam got laid,” I stated simply around a mouthful of Cheerios.

Dean skidded to a halt and looked appraisingly at his little brother. “Really?” he asked, emphasizing the word.

“Thanks a lot,” Sam muttered, trying his best to throw a bitch face at me, but not succeeding. “Yes, Dean, I actually _do_ have sex from time to time.”

“Not with a chick like _that_.” Dean shook his head, chuckling lightly. “My charms must be rubbing off on you, little brother.”

“Which is why _I_ had wild sex last night and _you_ didn’t?” 

I nearly spit my coffee out, sputtering a little and holding my hand up to keep everything in my mouth. I absolutely loved it when Sam had sass and at that very moment, Dean was having a hard time coming up with a rebuke.

“Bitch,” he settled with, flopping onto the arm chair.

“Jerk.”

“When do I get a fancy nickname?” I grinned, munching on a piece of bacon.

“We can start calling you _Kitten_.” Dean’s voice dripped with mockery on the last word and rolled his eyes.

“Only Tom calls me that,” I shot back with a glare.

“And why is that?” he challenged.

“Because no one can make her purr like I can,” Tom replied smoothly, waltzing into the room with the most decadent looking black robe wrapped around him. He stopped behind me and leaned down to peck me on the cheek. “Isn’t that right, Kitten?”

“I thought it was because I enjoyed a good pussy every now and then.” I peered up at him with a smirk on my face, all inhibitions from the night before gone. Might as well embrace the teasing.

He chuckled lightly and gave my shoulders a little squeeze, while the brothers had resorted to gaping shock at my lewd retort.

“That’s the woman I remember,” Tom teased. “Sorry about the lack of nourishment in my fridge, but you know me,” he added, noticing my half empty bowl of cereal.

“It’ll have to do for now,” I sighed. “I think Dean requires more though.”

“I’m going out,” he huffed, already up and halfway to the elevator before I could open my mouth again. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt this trip down memory lane.”

“Well, on that note.” Sam rolled his eyes and stood, as soon as Dean had disappeared behind the closing doors. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Dirty bird,” I mumbled with a wink. 

Sam chuckled and gave my arm a light punch as he passed by, leaving Tom and I alone in the living room. 

“Well,” he started, coming around the couch to sit beside me. “That hot headed Yank has it _bad_ for you, Kitten.”

“What are you talking about?” I grumbled, gulping down the last of my coffee.

“It’s perfectly clear that he despises my intentions towards you. He was practically marking his territory with one look.” He didn’t sound mad. In fact, he was grinning like the cheshire cat, obviously very pleased with himself.

“Dean is just being overprotective.” I shrugged, setting my mug down and making myself more comfortable. “Although I can’t imagine why. I’m a grown ass woman.”

“I assure you, it’s more than that.” Tom draped his arm over my shoulders. “I do love a challenge, though.”

“As flattering as that is, there isn’t a competition.” I looked over at him, threading my fingers into the hand that was at my shoulder. “Dean doesn’t want me. Therefore, you have won by default.”

“I’ve won you, have I?” He leaned in closer, licking his lips. “I was wondering when you’d come around.”

“I didn’t say I was,” I teased, leaning away from him.

“You can play coy all you want, Kitten.” Tom ran his thumb over my bottom lip, his eyes fixated on it. “But you and I both know where we’ll end up.”

A beat of silence passed between us as we stared at each other’s mouths, willing them to come together but not quite allowing it. I could feel and hear my heartbeat, just seconds away from bursting out of my chest. Then, a clearing throat behind us nearly had me jumping out of my skin.

“Um, sorry,” Sam interjected sheepishly. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” He was still dressed, clutching a bottle of shampoo that I recognized as mine.

“Yeah, absolutely,” I breathed, not realizing I had been holding it. I flashed a lopsided smile at Tom and got up from the couch.

“Well, I’m going to have a shower myself,” Tom announced. Then he leaned in close again, his nose brushing my ear. “We’ll talk about it later, Kitten.”

I nodded and scurried over to Sam, who was already walking towards the guest room, seemingly to get out of earshot.

“What’s up, Sam? You know you don’t have to whisk me away to ask if you can borrow my shampoo,” I joked, nodding towards the bottle in his hand. 

He humored me with a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I could tell something was weighing on his mind before he even spoke. “You know I usually respect your privacy, right?”

“Yeah?” I asked cautiously, crossing my arms.

“You gave me some good advice last night and now I want to repay the favor.”

“Ok, sure.”

“Actually, it’s more like insight than advice.” He was stalling. “And I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life--”

“Sam,” I interrupted, “Spit it out.”

“Dean likes you.”

I must have looked crazy in that moment because I felt my face go through a series of expressions since I couldn’t settle on one. As if sensing my lack of comprehension or ability to form words at this revelation, Sam continued.

“Dean’s not good with emotions. You’ve seen him disguise anger and sadness with indifference most of the time.” I gave a small nod, agreeing. “Well, his little tantrums have jealousy written all over them.”

This was the second person in the span of five minutes that insisted Dean had feelings for me that went beyond platonic. It was completely screwing up the plan in my head to get over him.

“That’s--not--I mean--no.” Apparently my words still didn’t work.

“I know my brother,” Sam smirked. “He definitely likes you.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” I asked, exasperated. Where were you months ago when I started agonizing over these feelings?

“I just want you to have all the information before you...make any decisions.”

“You mean before I sleep with Tom,” I deadpanned.

“Yeah.” He looked almost ashamed at the admission.

“You are such a cock block, Sam.” I sighed, plopping down onto the bed. “Just when I thought I had made up my mind about your idiot brother.”

“So you _have_ thought about it.” He grinned, pleased with himself that he had guessed right about my feelings.

“Too damn much,” I grumbled. “Although I’m still not convinced that you’re right.” I didn’t want to bring up the overly sexual wake up call from this morning. “Dean never has a problem picking up a woman.”

“Picking up a woman to have sex with is just so easy for him. Flirting is like breathing for Dean, it comes natural.” Sam sat down next to me, throwing his arm around my shoulder in that brotherly way I always adored. “Telling a woman he wants to have a relationship scares the shit out of him.”

“Dean doesn’t do relationships,” I scoffed.

“He does, actually. He _has_.” Sam’s voice got softer, reliving some of his brother’s unfortunate memories. “It usually doesn’t end well for him. Not many people get this life.”

I nodded in understanding. It takes a special kind of person to deal with the horrors we faced every day, let alone know and whole heartedly believe that they exist. It was why I never continued my love affair with Tom. He would never be able to love me the way that I needed. I needed someone to have my back in the dark days that lie ahead, to know that every moment should be lived as if it were your last. I couldn’t stand by and sip champagne while the outside world burned to the ground. I wanted to be someone’s only and I knew that Tom could never give up his prized bachelorhood for me. He adored me, he lusted after me, he spoiled me, but he didn’t love me.

“I swear, if you’re wrong…” I warned, pointing a very stern finger at him.

Sam just smiled and kissed me on the forehead.


	4. Do Something About It

When Dean is in a mood, it’s best to let him stew on his own instead of pushing the subject. I figured I would let him eat his breakfast in peace and talk to him when he came back even though my instincts screamed to go after him. It had been months without either one of us having the guts to verbalize our feelings; what was another hour? 

 

It was the longest hour ever. 

 

I paced the guest room, the living room, then ultimately sat down at the piano to tinker around with some notes. Tom had taught me a few basics, but years of chasing monsters instead of brushing up on my skills left me quite out of tune.

 

Sam had fallen asleep on the couch, too exhausted from his marathon evening with Maze to be bothered by my little symphony. I chuckled a little when he let out a particularly loud snore.

 

“I see he’s enduring a Maze hangover,” Tom quipped, coming up behind me. 

 

“Sneaks up on you,” I answered with a grimace as I hit a key that clearly didn’t belong.

 

“Oh dear, Kitten,” he chastised as he sat down next to me. “Have I taught you nothing?”

 

“Cut me some slack. I haven’t played in ages.”

 

“Well I simply can’t stand by and allow you to abuse my ears like this.” 

 

I stuck my tongue out at him and scooted over a few inches to allow him better access to the keys. He smirked and made a show of cracking his knuckles in preparation. My heart damn near stopped when I recognized the opening notes to _Can’t Help Falling in Love_.

 

“Wise men say, only fools rush in. But I can’t help falling in love with you,” Tom sang softly, a grin on his face. “Come on, Kitten.”

 

I grinned and shook my head fondly, but couldn’t help jumping in. It was my favorite Elvis song after all. “Shall I stay? Would it be a sin?”

 

“If I can’t help falling in love with you,” we sang together.

 

Once again I was transported back in time to evenings when we would sit together at this piano, Tom serenading me with his impeccable voice. Singing would turn into touching, touching would turn into kissing and, well, the rest was pretty much smutsville. He was a hard one to shake for sure.

 

“You’ve still got it.” I smiled, giving him a playful nudge.

 

“Style? Charm? Incredible good looks?” He wiggled his eyebrows in such a way that I couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“All of the above, including a smart mouth.”

 

“I can’t argue with that.” He shrugged. “There’s one thing I’m still missing though.”

 

“World domination?”

 

“You,” he answered pointedly. He continued to play the tune but kept throwing me sideways glances. “You could still come back, you know.”

 

“No,” I shook my head absently, “I couldn’t.”

 

“Don’t you miss the fun we had? The parties, the amazing sex?” He grinned wickedly and I actually found myself blushing a little.

 

“It was great, I won’t deny that.” I chewed my bottom lip thoughtfully. “The operative word being was.”

 

“Come on, Kitten.” He stopped playing then and turned to look at me full on, grasping my hands in his. “We could pick up right where we left off.”

 

“Tom.” I pleaded, shaking my head. “That’s not my life anymore. I can’t just leave Sam and Dean, we’re a team. There’s so much…” I trailed off, not even knowing how to express the importance of the Winchesters and our daily fight.

 

“You were so carefree back then.” He reached out to cup my cheek, his thumb idly caressing my skin. “You’re different now. So…”

 

“Grown up?” I offered with a quirked brow.

 

“I’ll have you know I’m quite mature,” he replied indignantly. “I just happen to enjoy the frivolity in life too.”

 

“And I enjoyed that while it lasted.” I sighed, looking down at our joined hands. “I just have a bigger purpose now.”

 

“Why can’t you serve that purpose here with me?” He leered at me then. “With Maze?”

 

“You’re like a dog with a bone, you know that?” I chuckled.

 

“I’ll gladly give you the bone, Kitten.”

 

“I may have let you twelve hours ago,” I murmured. “It’s not going to happen though, Tom. I’m sorry.”

 

I squeezed his hands and let them fall from my grasp, a sincere apologetic look on my face. Despite his overwhelming charm, I too had played a part in the game of cat and mouse and didn’t want to lead him on any further. 

 

“I see.” Tom sighed, his face pensive for a moment before quirking a brow at me. “It’s the bullheaded Yank, isn’t it?”

 

“Dean.” I rolled my eyes and huffed out an exasperated sigh. “And, yes, I hope so.”

 

He grinned but I could tell it was forced as his ego had been bruised. I might even be suspicious that his feelings were truly hurt. “Offer still stands if he doesn’t pull his head out of his ass.”

 

“It is the Winchester way,” I muttered.

 

I glanced at the clock above the bar and frowned. Dean should have been back by now, especially the way he inhales his food.

 

“Right, well.” Tom cleared his throat and stood. “I’m off to conduct some business.” That was his code for ‘I’m uncomfortable and need to disappear.’

 

“OK, I’ll see you later tonight.”

 

“It’s a date.” The corner of his mouth curled up before he disappeared into the elevator. I detected some disappointment in that crooked smile and wondered if I had truly hurt his feelings.

 

I shook the thought from my mind as I glanced at the clock again. It had been dangerously close to the two hour mark and I was starting to get anxious. The chances of any of us coming upon trouble when we least expected it was now the norm, especially when being caught alone. I chewed my bottom lip, wondering if I was being paranoid, but eventually gave into my intuition.

 

I hit the ‘Call’ button on my phone a little aggressively and brought it to my ear, glancing at Sam again who had ceased his snoring and seemed to be resting peacefully. A frightful image crossed my mind of having to wake him up in a panic, telling him that Dean needed us. It rang once, twice, three times and I nearly threw my phone across the room on the fourth ring when the most beautiful sound came through the speaker.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Dean,” I sighed his name, not caring if he could hear the relief in my voice. “Where are you?”

 

“Checking up on me?” He sounded cheeky, his annoyance from earlier having dissipated.

 

“Always,” I teased. “You’ve been gone a while. Everything OK?”

 

“Yeah, I lost track of time talking to Gina.”

 

“Gina?” I frowned. It was then that I noticed the background noise of a typical busy diner, but very clearly amongst the sounds of clinking plates and murmurs, a breathy female laugh.

 

“The waitress that has been _taking care of me_ ,” he chuckled at his own innuendo. “She’s agreed to keep me company tonight while you and Sammy work that job, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

 

I felt the blood drain from my face at the sentiment directed towards the woman on the other end of the phone. She laughed again and said something along the lines of ‘depends on the size of your tip.’ I vaguely recognized that cold stab of jealously deep in my gut and somehow it felt deserved.

 

“It’s nice to see that you’re more concerned with getting your dick wet than watching our backs.” _Well, shit. That just came out didn’t it?_

 

A beat of silence passed and I could tell that he was moving away from the chaotic noise, most likely looking for some privacy. I almost regretted my choice my words.

 

“You’ve got a lot of nerve saying some shit like that to me when you’re cozying up to some rich asshole to get what you want.”

 

“I’m not cozying up to anyone, Dean. I’m leveraging a relationship to help our cause,” I hissed.

 

“Leveraging huh? That’s what you call all the touches on the sly and the make out sessions?”

 

“He kissed me!” My yelling had now startled Sam awake, but I couldn’t stop myself. “If it bothers you so much, stop being such a pussy and do something about it!”

 

I hung up before my brain had time to catch up with my mouth and stood gripping my cell phone until my knuckles turned white. 

 

“ _That_ was your way of telling Dean you like him?” Sam deadpanned.

 

I turned towards him, closing my eyes and blowing out a long breath now that everything registered in my mind. “That was not how this was supposed to go.”

 

“Clearly,” he mumbled, wiping his eyes. “What the hell happened?”

 

“Your ass of a brother had been flirting his way into a waitress’s bed when I called and I lost my shit.”

 

“Oh.” Sam sighed. “Typical.”

 

“What if you were wrong?”

 

“I’m not wrong.” He sat up, patting the cushion next to him so I would sit. “He’s just acting out.”

 

“I don’t want to play these games, Sam!” I was too anxious to sit and decided to pace instead. 

 

“From the sounds of that conversation, I’d say game over.”

 

“Huh?” I stopped then, looking at Sam with equal parts worry and hope.

 

“You basically just told him to come claim what’s his and my brother doesn’t back down.” He grinned. “Or you just called him a pussy and he’s raging right now.”

 

I huffed, suddenly not so sure about the decision I had made to call out Dean Winchester. His temper could be savage at times and if there was a chance in hell that Sam was completely misreading his brother’s intentions, I would be on the receiving end of Hurricane Winchester’s wrath very shortly. Sure, it wouldn’t last long, because Dean could never seem to stay mad at me, but it was still unpleasant.

 

The alternative, that Dean was on his way to take possession of me, also had my nerves stirring. It also stirred other parts of my body and I couldn’t contain the heat that started to flush my cheeks.

 

“Shit,” I grumbled. “I don’t even--how do I--what do I do, Sam?”

 

“Well first, take a deep breath and calm down.”

 

“I am calm!”

 

“Oh sister, thou art not being honest with thyself,” he teased in his best Mary Sanderson voice.

 

“Seriously? At a time like this?” I finally plopped myself down next to him, giving him a playful smack. I relented and inhaled through my nose. “Ok, I’m taking a deep breath.”

 

“Good.” He flung his arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him so I could tuck my head into the crook of his neck. “Now sit still so I can finally get some rest.”

 

“Why don’t you just lie down in the guest room?”

 

“I have a feeling it’ll be occupied in about,” he paused to check his watch, “ten minutes.”

I blushed again, surprised at how nervous the insinuation made me. Normally I wouldn’t bat an eye at the possibility of getting naked with a gorgeous specimen such as Dean, but I guess months of torturing myself with these unrequited feelings had taken its toll. I lusted after Dean, but more than that, I cared for Dean. Deeply.

 

“Shh, your brain is too loud,” Sam whispered, hugging me even tighter. 

 

“Sorry,” I countered in an equally hushed tone. I smiled and closed my eyes, letting my dear friend’s cocoon of warmth envelop me until the storm came. He always knew how to lull me into a state of tranquility like a Goddamn wizard.

 

He was so comfortable in fact that I barely registered my consciousness slipping away until the sound of a ding and heavy boots stomping into the room startled me awake again. You know that feeling you get when you’re falling in a dream and you wake up suddenly? That’s what happened to my stomach when my eyes focused on Dean hovering above me, his face set in an unreadable expression.

 

I blinked and untangled myself from Sam’s grasp, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. He was pretending to be asleep, the traitorous bastard.

 

“You’re back.” I mentally smacked myself at how meek I sounded. _Not so tough now without a cell phone in between us._

 

“Bedroom. Now.” His orders were given, quite sternly I might add, and he was off without another word.

 

To say that I was equal parts excited and scared was an understatement. He was either luring me towards an explosive argument or a rough tumble in the sheets. Or maybe both. I didn’t have the proper amount of time and skill to decode his body language or tenor. Sam was much more equipped in that department.

 

I took a deep breath, pushed myself up off the couch and squared my shoulders. I was a hunter for God’s sake, I’ve gone head to head with a pack of vampires before. Why should I be scared of Dean? 

 

_I’m scared of his rejection._ I headed towards the hallway. _I’m scared of his acceptance._ I turned the corner and saw the door to the guest room. _I’m scared of change._ I was now crossing the threshold and I spotted Dean in the middle of the room, his hands resting on his hips with his back to me. _I’m scared to lose him._

 

“Shut the door,” he stated, without even turning to acknowledge me. 

 

I took an audible breath and reached back blindly to close the door. The sound of the door jamb engaging was like a shot being fired in the dead of night. I waited, rooted in my spot. I wasn’t going to speak first.

 

Seconds ticked by and I became acutely aware of my rapidly beating heart. I watched him for any signs that would clue me in on what he was feeling. He seemed to be thinking, his head down like he was studying the carpet for answers. My mind starting screaming _Abort! Abort!_ when the seconds turned into a full minute.

 

When he finally turned, I held my breath and zeroed in on his face. I cursed wildly in my head and remembered why Dean was so damn good at poker; he gave nothing away. That is, until he smirked at my clear uneasiness. 

 

“And here I thought you would be able to back up that sassy mouth of yours, face to face.” I did a double take. He didn’t sound angry per say, but his voice was challenging. “Who’s the pussy now?” he added, arms crossed.

I narrowed my eyes. The fucker was baiting me, but for what, I still didn’t know.

 

“You got something to say to me, Dean? Or are you going to beat around the bush all damn day?”

 

“I’ve got plenty to say, sweetheart. Let’s start with that bullshit about me not having your back.”

 

“You can’t watch my back with a pair of tits in your face,” I glowered.

 

“And you could watch Sammy’s back with Tom’s tongue down your throat?” he growled, advancing towards me like a predator cornering its prey.

 

“Oh let it go, Dean!” I yelled, my arms outstretched to the side. “It was one kiss. I could make you blush with all the filthy things I’ve done with him.”

 

Dean was on me before I could react, pushing me into the door with a loud thud. His left hand gripped my waist almost painfully while his right hand rested on the base of my neck, applying enough pressure to make me gasp and snap my mouth shut.

 

“Let’s get one thing straight, sweetheart.” He fixed me with a dark stare that literally gave me chills. “You can spit fire at me all day. It’s kind of hot actually.” He squeezed a little harder now, but not enough to cause me any pain. “But if he touches you again, I _will_ do something about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the painfully long delay! I was debating on how this chapter was going to go and wanted the drama to last just a little longer ;-) I know, I'm a little stinker. Plus, we all know that nothing is "easy" when it comes to Dean.


	5. The Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am so incredibly sorry for the long wait! I had a long weekend and I thought to myself, 'self, you need to finish this damn story!' So I did. I hope the ending does the story justice. Mayhaps I'll write a story about the Reader's time with Tom and Maze some day ;-)

Heavy breathing. A pounding heart. Goosebumps and heat rapidly spreading. Eyes unfocused. Words eluded me. Everything in this moment was pure Dean. 

I opened my mouth to force some sort of intelligible thought out of my body, but my tongue felt dry and heavy. I swallowed with great difficulty and licked my lips, attempting to loosen them up. I nearly whimpered when I realized Dean’s gaze had fallen to watch my mouth work, his own parted slightly. 

“I hate that he’s touched you,” he admitted gravely, lightly rubbing his thumb over the dip in my throat.

“I know,” I breathed.

“I hate that he still wants you.”

“I told him that he can’t have me.”

“Did you?” His eyes flicked back up to mine, pupils dilating slightly. “Why?”

“You know why,” I challenged lightly. My senses were starting to come back to me now.

“Tell me.” His lips brushed mine ever so slightly as he spoke. It dawned on me that he was partially trying to be seductive about this whole encounter, but if I knew Dean like I thought I did, he was also seeking validation. 

“I have it on good authority that you like me, Winchester.”

Dean smirked and pulled his hands back from my body, resting both hands against the door to cage me in. 

“Sammy ratted me out, I take it.”

“Leave it to him to be so observant.” I reached out to lay my hand on his chest, testing the waters. “I thought you were just playing the overprotective brother role.”

He sighed and leaned forward until our foreheads were touching, eyes fluttering shut. “My thoughts have been anything but brotherly, trust me.”

“Then how come--this morning--” I stuttered, feeling the blush return to my cheeks as I recalled the sensation.

“I wasn’t sure you wanted me,” he confessed, eyes now open, hand cupping my cheek. “You seemed so--remorseful about it.”

“I was embarrassed.” I bit my lip, casting my gaze to the grip I still had on his flannel. 

“And I chickened out,” he admitted with a shake of his head. “I thought maybe you were thinking about Captain Douche and realized it was me instead.”

“I definitely knew it was you.” I leaned in close to whisper in his ear in a teasing fashion. “You’re bigger.”

He groaned low in his throat and gripped my hips possessively. I could just make out the feeling of what I had previewed that morning against my lower belly. “You really know how to stroke a guy’s ego, sweetheart.”

“I’d rather stroke something else.” I reached down and lightly caressed the bulge straining against his jeans. “Unless you’d rather have your little waitress take care of it,” I sassed.

“It was stupid.” He gritted his teeth, rocking into me slowly. “I was feeling dejected.”

“Can we just scrap the whole jealousy thing?” I immediately stopped my ministrations and grabbed him by the back of the head so our gazes would meet. “I like you, Dean. I want you. I will take whatever you have to offer.”

“I come with a lot of fine print, sweetheart.”

“Doom and gloom, I know Dean.” I sighed and gave him a lopsided grin. “Would it help if I gave you some of my ‘cautions and warnings’?”

“I’m all ears.” 

“We are going to fight constantly,” I whispered conspiratorially, “because you are stubborn and arrogant and I’m snarky and moody.”

Dean smirked and started to back up slowly towards the bed, my hips encased in his hands again as he listened.

“If you touch my food while I’m hungry, I’m likely to snap at you in a totally irrational way.” I grinned and pecked him on the lips. “But I will apologize by cooking my ass off for you.”

“Pie?”

“I make a mean salted caramel chocolate pecan pie.”

“Say more things like that,” Dean groaned, nuzzling into my neck.

“I can make homemade bourbon vanilla whipped cream and play pranks on Sam like it’s nobody’s business.”

“And this is supposed to deter me from wanting you?”

“I snore and sometimes I drool in my sleep.”

“Not the kind of wet dream I was hoping for.” 

“Hey, I’m just giving you all the details before you sign this contract.”

“Continue,” he encouraged as he sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling me closer by gripping both ass cheeks in his experienced hands.

“I don’t like the Rocky movies.”

“You. Bite. Your. Tongue.”

I yelped when he swatted me on the ass, almost hard enough to be considered painful.

“I do like that.”

Dean grinned wickedly as I climbed into his lap, wanting to be as close to him as possible despite our layers of clothing. 

“What else do you like?” His voice was getting thicker as time went on, undoubtedly holding himself back from just getting right down to it.

“I like watching you with a gun.” I laced my fingers with one of his hands while the other one held me close, spread out across my lower back. “The way you clean it meticulously, sometimes without even looking. The way you hold it like it’s an extension of you.” I gave a little roll of my hips and watched his breath hitch. “It makes me have all kinds of dirty thoughts about those hands of yours.”

I untangled our fingers and guided his hand to my cheek, nuzzling into it. “Here.” I moved it up into my hair. “And here.” I gasped when he gave my locks a little tug. “Definitely that.” Lower, to my neck where I encouraged him to put light pressure. “Here, if you’re feeling brave.”

“Fuck,” he puffed out, pupils dilated beyond his green irises. 

“Most definitely here,” I groaned, moving his hand down to my left breast. I let him take the lead on squeezing, not too rough or soft. Perfect. 

“Jesus baby, I haven’t even kissed you properly yet.”

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot about your damned perfect mouth.” I leaned in close so our foreheads were touching, just feeling each other’s breath blow across our skin. “Sometimes I watch your tongue flick out or bite down on your bottom lip when you’re concentrating. You don’t even realize you’re doing it half the time. Drives me fucking crazy.” 

Then our lips crashed together like magnets, unable to hold back any longer. We shared a mutual moan of gratitude as every inch of space between us disappeared. I curled my fingers into his hair, holding on for dear life while he engulfed me with both arms. One hand made its way to the back of my neck while the other kneaded my ass, rocking me into his groin with such firm control. 

Dean didn’t immediately plunge his tongue into my mouth, but instead gave me light licks and nips, sometimes sucking my bottom lip into his mouth. It was the sweetest torture I had ever endured. He purposely made me crave him as I tried to push deeper, only to have him pull back slightly and chase his lips with my own. Just when I was about to muster up an epic, Sam worthy pout, he surged forward. It was a slow, wet, tentative exploration at first. It’s funny how just a moment ago I had him groping my breast, yet this felt so much more intimate. 

As my hands slid down to grip his shirt, a desperation kicked in and the kiss turned hot, heavy, and passionate. It was the kind of kiss that you have to sneak breaths in through your nose because you don’t want to disengage. I briefly recognized that I could get off just from kissing this man, feeling his hands everywhere at once.

“Holy shit,” I gasped when we finally broke apart, panting like we just run from a horde of vampires. “I don’t know if I’m going to make it.”

“I know what you mean.” Dean chuckled, but I could hear a hint of embarrassment in his voice. “This may be over way too quick.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” 

“Dammit, woman.” His eyes fluttered shut as he rested his head on my shoulder. “I had so many plans for you.”

“We have plenty of time for marathon fucking later. Right now,” I reached down to give him an urgent but gentle squeeze, “I just need you so damn bad.”

“Shit,” he hissed, his resolve breaking. “Ok, fuck. How do you want it, sweetheart?”

“I’m perfectly content right here, Dean.”

I’m pretty sure we could have set a world record with how quickly we shed our clothing, me almost face planting trying to get my jeans and panties off fast enough while Dean cursed at his boots before flinging them across the room. Then he was reaching for me, hauling me back into his lap so roughly that I almost scolded him for putting his manhood in danger of being crushed. That wouldn’t be good for anybody.

“Hold on, let me at least…” he trailed off as his fingers descended to my opening. He gave a quick swirl with his middle finger before slowly dipping it inside. He gave a groan of approval, finding me more than ready to accept him easily.

“I told you,” I teased breathlessly. “Come on, Dean.”

Hearing me say his name so desperately must have finally flipped the switch because in one fluid motion he removed his finger, lifted me up just enough to make room and slammed my body down onto his cock.

The delicious stretch of being taken by someone for the first time is a sensation you can never duplicate. I wanted to laugh, cry and scream all at the same time because my brain couldn’t focus on one emotion. I settled on a strangled moan that I’m sure conveyed my feelings to Dean. I gave an experimental roll of my hips and nearly lost it when the base of his cock rubbed perfectly against my clit. He groaned and held me still, eyes closed tightly.

“Oh, shit, Dean.” I gripped his face and kissed him hard on the lips. “Please, I need to move.”

He took a few deep breaths with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, all hard lines and concentration. I knew he was trying to damnedest to gain control over his body so he wouldn’t tap out too soon, but I was beyond caring and just wanted to feel the push and pull that I craved. 

I gripped his wrists that were attached to my waist and pulled slightly which must have caught him off guard because his grip eased just enough for me to lift onto my knees and slide back down. I felt him shudder and repeated the action, letting go of his wrists in favor of gripping his shoulders for better leverage. 

When I was sure he wasn’t going to try and hold me still any longer, I sped up my movements and alternated between bouncing up and down and grinding against his pelvis. Dean wasn’t much of a talker during sex, but he more than made up for it with deliberate touches and shameless noises that gave me goosebumps. 

Just as I suspected, the warm feeling in my belly started to spread lower rather quickly and I began to ride him so hard that I would have worried about toppling us off the end of the bed, if I had given two shits. Dean gripped me by the hair and pulled my lips to his for a sloppy kiss that was more breathing and moaning into each others mouths than anything. The sharp tug at the base of my skull finally broke the dam and I was a shaking, stuttering mess in his lap. He almost sounded relieved when I let go because he was grunting and twitching inside me less than a minute later.

We sat there tangled together for a few moments, waiting for our hearts to slow down and our breathing to return to normal. My skin was slick with sweat and our combined fluids, which was oddly thrilling albeit messy. Eventually I leaned down to give Dean a slow, thorough kiss, needing the contact after such a heated romp. 

“Now that was passion,” I clarified with a smirk.


End file.
